


Remember When

by Hekmugi



Category: Mao Mao: Heroes of Pure Heart (Cartoon)
Genre: Cell Phones, Fluff, M/M, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekmugi/pseuds/Hekmugi
Summary: Badgerclops recalls some old memories.
Relationships: Badgerclops/Mao Mao Mao
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47





	Remember When

**Author's Note:**

> Heard a song, got inspired to write something completely different than what I was working on. Also testing out using em-dashes, so let me know what you think!

* * *

MaoMaoMao

hey boo

*bro

lol 

wyd

Dojo.

Training.

Is the alarm going off?

nah 

jus checkin in

I’m doing well.

do you wanna like hang out later

Perhaps. Anything in mind?

down for w/e

I’ll consider it.

when do you think youll be ready

I’ll set an alarm.

Sunsday 12:54

yeah but like when

* * *

Badgerclops set his phone down. Sliding his protective visor back on, he continued to poke at his newest project. Sparks flew around him as he grinded a large piece of metal. When he was finished, it would become refurbished outer plating for his arm—but as he continued to distract himself, that “when” was looking farther and farther away.

He didn’t want to consider himself a needy person, but he had already experienced a lifetime’s worth of isolation before becoming friends with Mao Mao. Now that they were settled down, they spent a lot more time separated than when they first met. Although their relationship had grown in more than a couple ways since their days as vagrants, they spent much less time together outside of work. He couldn’t help but find that a bit odd, considering they lived together—but it made sense. On the road, they slept in shifts. They watched out for one another in the night, and kept their hands clasped around one another through thick fog and blinding sandstorms. It was a closeness borne out of necessity—which no longer existed.

Mao Mao was never one for intimacy. Even as travellers, he tried his best to keep their “working relationship” professional. It took months for him to allow Badgerclops to sleep in the same tent as him, and longer still to share a cot or sleeping bag. Those lax standards, too, were born from necessity. When your livelihood is on your back, reducing weight is paramount. One less tent, one less bulky sleeping bag, one less thing to tear down in the morning. Heat is hard to come by in the wilderness, and Badgerclops is warm. Mao Mao was warm, too, but there was a lot less of him to go around. If Badgerclops was a fireplace, Mao Mao was a space heater. Badgerclops didn’t mind, though. He enjoyed the pressure on his chest more than anything—the closeness of another person next to him. It could have been anyone, and he would have enjoyed it just the same. The only thing that made Mao Mao’s closeness special was the frequency.

Badgerclops blinked. The sheet of metal he had been working with now sported a sizable gash in the middle. Groaning, he turned the grinder off and cast his visor aside. He couldn’t deny it anymore—he was in a mood. Ripping his bandolier pouch open, he checked his phone. No new notifications. With a sigh, he put it away and turned off his shop lights. Getting something to eat sounded like a good idea.

Moseying his way up the stairs, he combed the refrigerator for something to drink. Grabbing a bottle of water—but not one of Mao Mao’s, he’d need one after he finished training, after all—he nudged the door shut with his hip. Grabbing a bag of Cheezy Paws—again, not Mao Mao’s—he walked over to the couch. The early afternoon sun streamed in through the window, casting the television screen in a yellowish radiance. His usual depression on the couch was also bathed in the warm light. The sunlight was nice, but he couldn’t help but feel stuffy indoors. It was a warm day, and the interior retained heat a little too well for his liking. Not only would he be sweaty sitting on the couch, he’d have trouble making out the television screen.

Popping another pouch open, Badgerclops grabbed a pair of earbuds from his bandolier and plugged them into his phone. He was a homebody, but the weather was too good to pass the opportunity up. He supposed there would be nothing wrong with engaging his chill outdoors.

He slid the door open, stepping onto the porch. His phone was back in his paw—no notifications—and he had a claw over the “shuffle playlist” button. There was a nice, comfortable patch of low grass next to the front porch that he could lay on—watching the clouds as they drifted by.

The grass tickled his back. The earbuds fit tight on his ears, blasting chill, relaxing tones and blocking out the rest of the world. With his eyes shut, he was left with the movies that played in his head—memories that the music inspired, usually related to his aforementioned travels. There was nothing else he wanted to drift towards. His childhood was painful. His time as a Thicket Thief was somewhere between regretful and shameful. It was not a new realization for him, but once more he reflected on how the first time he could remember being happy was as Mao Mao’s co-hero.

Not like that was over, but he couldn’t help but feel like they had grown a little further apart since those days. Things were simpler back then. Their only responsibility was each other, and they could manage that just fine. For every tense argument they had on the road, and for every fight-gone-south that they had limped away from, they always found the resolve to continue. It never seemed like that big of a deal to him then, but now—with something resembling stability and normalcy—he could begin to appreciate how far they had come. He could only hope that Mao Mao felt the same way.

They still had tender moments, usually after winning a battle or solving a particularly difficult issue, but Badgerclops couldn’t help but feel like those times were growing fewer and farther in between. Maybe that was for the best. They had never talked about it. It was almost completely non-verbal—a codependence that started as a survival instinct, but lingered even after they reached civilization. He couldn’t deny that he missed it. The bunk bed was nice, but he wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with Mao Mao again. The group victory celebrations were fun, but he wouldn’t mind having some time alone with Mao Mao.

Badgerclops began to hum to himself. He was never much of a singer, so he tended to hum the lyrics. His vocal range was good enough for most of his music, and the music was loud enough that he couldn’t hear himself, which was perfect. He didn’t need to match the sound, just the vibe of the music. He sought to turn all of his senses inwards—entering a vegetative state of daydream and reminiscence.

Badgerclops was so caught up in his trance that he didn’t feel the grass depress at his side. He didn’t notice the shadow cast over his upper half, and only noticed at the last second that something was reaching for one of his earbuds. His eye shot open, staring at Mao Mao’s placid, somewhat proud face as he bent over the deputy.

Badgerclops fumbled at his sides a bit, holding the phone up to his face. The time — 1:54.

“Taking a break?” Mao Mao asked.

Badgerclops nodded.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Oh, uh… sure.”

Mao Mao slid the earbud in. He laid on his back—next to Badgerclops—and rested his gloved paws on his chest. They shared a period of silence, watching the sky.

“So,” Badgerclops spoke up, “how did training go?”

Mao Mao shrugged. “Same as ever. What were you working on?”

“Armor repair. I got bored though, so I came out here to chill.”

“You haven’t ‘chilled’ outside in a while.” Mao Mao turned on his side, facing the deputy. “Something going on?”

Badgerclops’ first reaction was to shake his head. “Nah…”

Mao Mao kept staring, tilting his head slightly.

“Well,” Badgerclops continued, “just thinking. About the past.”

“Specifically—”

“Our time on the road.” Badgerclops interrupted. “How… different it was.”

Mao Mao nodded. “It was a different time. We had to look out for one another every waking moment.”

“Yeah, and it was pretty stressful.”

Mao Mao cleared his throat. “But… it was nice, I suppose, to feel so needed.”

“Yeah,” Badgerclops nodded. “I was actually thinking about how we, uh…” Badgerclops felt his face growing red, only now acknowledging how his thoughts sounded out loud, “I mean- when we uh… when we reduced the weight in our rucks by ditching the other tent.”

“And the other sleeping bag.” Mao Mao followed up.

“You remember that?”

Mao Mao chuckled. “You made a pretty decent bed.”

The conversation could’ve stopped there. Badgerclops could’ve simply laughed it off, or shook his head, and gone back to his music.

“I think, some days…” Badgerclops said slowly, “we stayed in bed pretty late, pretending the other hadn’t woken up yet.”

“Yep. I even pretended to sing to myself.”

Badgerclops shut his eye, smiling. “You _did_ used to sing for me, didn’t you?”

“Yep,” Mao Mao said, sitting up. He put his paws on Badgerclops’ chest, kicking himself onto the deputy’s abdomen and scrunching himself into a resting position. The fabric of his cape draped off his hunched back, hanging against Badgerclops’ sides like a half-blanket

“I’d rest on you, just like this, and sing a song, just like this.”

Mao Mao recognized the song Badgerclops was listening to. He fumbled with the lyrics a bit, but he recalled them well enough. Badgerclops reached a paw to Mao Mao’s back, and Mao Mao stared ahead at the deputy. He sang—low and quiet—as Badgerclops caressed his back. In that moment, with both of them reminiscing through closed eyes, they began to feel an old fire rekindle from within one another.

**Author's Note:**

> I've heard people don't like emulating cell phone conversations in writing, but I wanted to give it a shot regardless. I hope it's not too annoying! And of course lemme know what you think. I love your feedback.


End file.
